Plan Z
by NashNurse
Summary: Sophie unexpectedly finds herself fighting for a bit of her past...and losing. Can she trust her friends to help her with something that means more to her than they could ever imagine? This is her last resort, her plan z. Rated M for rare language.
1. Chapter 1

Nathan ford wearily climbed the darkened stairwell to his apartment envisioning his soft bed with a certain amount of pleasure. He had cut his "vacation" week in Ireland short and arrived in Boston at 3am feeling bitter and emotionally raw from the confrontation with his father. Sophie had encouraged him to reconcile with the man and had even purchased him the ticket; her disarming smile and unreasonably logical arguments eventually won over and Nate had taken the long flight to the UK. He spent a grand total of seventy-seven hours in the country and had then boarded a plane home in a fit of rage. Now here he was, home, badly wanting a drink…or even better, to hear Sophie Devereaux's voice coaxing him out of his mood. Nate dropped his suitcases abruptly onto the dusty hardwood floors and started searching for his keys.

That's when he heard it. Her voice. It wasn't unusual for Sophie to be in his apartment, or any other member of the team for that matter but he glanced at his watch to make sure he had the right time. In the dim lighting he read forty-seven minutes past three. What in God's name was Sophie doing up at this hour and who was she talking to?

Nate finally located his key and silently inserted it into the brass lock. The investigator in him took over and he slipped silently into the room. Sophie's voice was clearly coming from the kitchen table. She couldn't see him enter from where she was seated. Nate came around the corner and frowned at the sight before him.

Scattered papers covered the table dotted here and there with empty coffee mugs and corresponding stained papers…they looked like mostly legal documents from where Nate was standing. Sophie was frantically typing on the laptop in front of her, glancing occasionally to the second laptop computer on her right. She was arguing with herself, low-pitched muttering mixed with the occasional outburst of "fool" or "bloody bastards."

Nate's apartment was looking worse for the wear but it was Sophie's appearance that troubled him the most. Her hair was pulled back loosely in a pony-tail and her face was devoid of any make-up; dark circles clearly surrounding her blood-shot eyes. The loose-fitting, grey t-shirt she was wearing looked like she had been wearing it for several days along with the rumpled jeans.

"Sophie." He said her name as quietly as he could but she jumped up as if she had just been struck by lightning.

"What are you doing here?" she looked frightened, not just startled, but truly frightened to see him.

"I live here, remember?" he walked into the kitchen, trying to keep his face passive. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot Sophie had apparently started (he knew at this point he wasn't getting to sleep any time soon).

"Get out." Her voice was laced with panic and Nate frowned with his back to her. What had she gotten herself into?

"Sophie," his patience was worn thin after the hellish three days with his father, an exhausting flight home, and now no hope of sleep in the near future. "What the hell is going on?" His tone was probably harsher than it needed to be.

"Nate, please!" her eyes were wide with fright and Nate found himself wondering when she had slept last. "I can't explain this to you. You just have to get out right now!" She glanced at the clock and then walked towards him, removing the coffee cup from his hand. "Wait downstairs. Anything. Go. Get Out!"

The urgency with which she pressed herself against his body startled Nate and he found himself backing up towards the door.

"Sophie, this is ridiculous. Can't we just—" The quiet buzzing of Sophie's cell phone cut him off as she lurched towards the device.

"Get out!" she screamed frantically before turning her attention completely to the phone. She typed furiously on the laptop and then took a deep, shaky breath as she answered the phone with a curt _hello_. Sophie was so deeply entrenched in what was being said that she was oblivious to the fact that Nate had never left the room and was still watching her intently.

"Put it on speaker." He ordered, standing by her side once again. A look of dread came over Sophie's face and Nate was unsure if it was due to his persistent presence or the conversation she was having.

"No please," she mumbled into the phone. "It's only a…a…a roommate. He came home early. There's no reason to…" she grew as still as a statue and closed her eyes, Nate could hear the grating sound of an electronic voice on the phone. "Listen to me!" she cried desperately. "It doesn't matter. Nothing has to change. We can go on just as planned…" her breathing was erratic and shallow and Nate could feel anger bubbling up inside of him towards whoever was toying with his friend's emotions like this.

"Give it to me." Sophie flashed him the angriest glare he had ever seen and continued with her entreaties to the unknown party.

Before Nate was even sure of what he was doing he had snatched the phone away from Sophie and was shouting into it. "My name is Nathan Ford. I am _not_ her roommate. I am her coworker. I track down low-life bastards like you who threaten others and push them into corners. I help them out of those corners by eliminating people like you. Do not underestimate me." At this point Sophie's shock wore off and she lunged for the phone. Nate tried to hold her off with one arm as she scratched and clawed in a vain attempt to reclaim the device.

"If you want to continue the conversation you were having with her you may call me, and only me. She is out of the picture, understand?" With that final statement Nate hung up the phone and dropped it onto the table. Sophie immediately stopped her advance and stood frozen in place with an expression that Nate couldn't quite interpret.

Sophie's blood-shot eyes slowly began to glaze over with unshed tears. Her breathing was still erratic but had now dropped to a slower rate. Nate was unsure if he should speak. He began with a hesitant "Sophie" and when that didn't elicit a response he continued. "Sophie, you need to tell me what's going on. I can help you. You know I can. Are…" he sighed deeply. "Is someone after you? Threatening you?"

Sophie took a sudden, ragged breath as she seemed to come out of her stupor. "What have you done?" The horror read clearly in her voice and it caused Nate to shift uncomfortably and begin to stutter.

"What have you done?" she repeated her former statement as her breathing rate increased once again and color rushed back into her cheeks. Nate saw her sway and reached out an arm to steady her. It seemed that his touch was all it took to set her off.

"Do you have any idea what you have just done?" she screamed at him at the top her lungs, clearly no longer in control of herself. "Bastard!" She took a swing at him and made full contact with the left side of Nate's jaw. He staggered back in both shock and pain. Her warm brown eyes seemed to turn a cold black and she rushed at him, both arms swinging wildly as she showered him with curses, punches, and slaps. "Do you have any idea? Do you? You fucking bastard!" Her screams were becoming louder and her swings more and more out of control.

Nate tried desperately to shield himself from the onslaught of blows but he quickly became more concerned for Sophie than for his rib cage. "Sophie." He kept his voice low, repeating her name over and over again as he attempted to grab hold of her arms. As she continued to scream and kick at him Nate wrapped his arms securely around her…not to comfort her but in an attempt to subdue her. He could sense her growing weakness as she continued to struggle. Nate wrestled her to her knees all the while whispering into her ear.

When she hit the floor she let out a garbled, heart wrenching cry that broke Nate's heart. She stopped struggling against him and went limp, falling the rest of the way onto the hardwood floors. She didn't try to speak or to hide her grief. Nate could do nothing but sit and listen to her sob until she finally fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliot flung open the door with a bang and marched into the room, a wild expression on his face. Nate looked up from the kitchen table and sighed.

"What are you doing here, Eliot? It's four in the morning."

"Hardison said..." Eliot surveyed the room, looking angrier by the second. "Did someone break in?"

"No."

"Was there a fight?"

"Not exactly."

Alec Hardison walked through the door tentatively and smiled when he saw the coast was clear. "Man, I was worried sick. Where's Sophie?"

"Upstairs. What are you doing here?" Nate was becoming a little irritated, all he wanted was a few hours sleep or at least some peace and quiet.

"Damnit, Hardison! What the hell? You said they were in trouble!" Eliot glowered at the tall man beside him. "There is going to be trouble if you don't tell me in three seconds why the hell you woke me up and…"

"I thought you only needed 90 minutes." Hardison grinned but made a hasty retreat as Eliot stepped towards him. "Hey, C'mon, man. I heard it! I heard Sophie yelling and Nate was…and she was…" Hardison looked at Nate for backup but Nate was looking peeved.

"What do you mean you heard it?" Nate reluctantly got up from the couch and positioned himself between the hitter and the worried looking hacker. "Are you spying on us, Hardison?"

"Oh come on!" the young man protested. "This is our office; I did what any self respecting technology master would do. I installed a system the picks up on certain audio frequencies…Sophie screaming, furniture breaking, gunshots…whatever. It sets off an alarm and I can monitor whatever the hell is going on." Hardison had forgotten about Eliot's threats and was looking a little peeved himself. "So maybe you can tell me why my laptop started sending alerts like crazy about twenty minutes ago."

Parker ran into the room, awkwardly holding a small hang gun. "Where is he?" she demanded.

"Who?" Nate asked as he held out his hand for the gun.

"The guy who attacked Sophie." She looked warily at the older man and furtively looked about the room. "Are you sure there's no one here?" she looked to Hardison for support. "You said someone was hurting Sophie."

"Parker, quit swinging the pistol around and give it to Nate before you kill someone." Eliot growled.

Hardison looked upset at the accusations. "I didn't say that—"

"Parker!" Eliot muscled the gun away from her and tucked into the back of his jeans.

"Hey!" she screeched. "I might need that."

"Ahem." Nate glared at the rest of the team and moved back towards the wooden table. "When you're interested in actually hearing the truth…" The team quieted down and sullenly approached their 'leader.'

Nate sighed deeply as he looked about the strewn papers on the table top. "These," he began slowly. "Are a part of Sophie's attempt to regain something that was stolen from her."

"What?" the three asked in unison, their complete attention now on Nate.

Nate lifted a piece of paper with seventeen names scribbled down; some he recognized as former marks, others were completely foreign to him. One laptop had a banking account from an offshore site with a pending transaction of over two million dollars. The other had a tracking program in use (something of Hardison's, Nate was sure), still alerting the absent user to the lost connection.

"She's in trouble."

"What did they steal? Anything good?" Parker's curiosity would have been amusing in any other situation.

"Something worth at least two million to her," Hardison said as he examined the computer.

"More, I'm guessing." Eliot held up a list of high-end art pieces and antiques, a price written beside each one. "She's been busy."

"Hardison," Nate's voice had an authoritative edge to it again. "Do you think you can track the last call that came in on this phone?" he slid Sophie's cell phone across the table.

"I can sure as hell try." He plopped himself in Sophie's abandoned seat and began pecking away at the keyboard.

"Parker."

"Reporting for duty."

Nate gave a terse smile. "See what you know about these pieces, " he handed her the list Sophie had made. "Find out if they've been moved recently or are up for sale. If so, tell me when she started selling them."

Nate moved to the kitchen counter and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Did he dare fix a drink? He looked at his hands, they were trembling slightly. Was it nerves or something a little darker? He clenched both hands tightly and stared ahead into the apartment.

"Why is she upstairs?" Eliot stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest in the typical fashion. He kept his voice low, so as not to attract the attention of the other two team-members. "They might have forgotten what brought them here in the first place but I sure as hell haven't. "

Nate looked down at the counter top and tried to decide how to proceed. That drink was sounding better and better by the moment.

"Did you hurt her?" his voice was so deep and menacing that Nate was genuinely skittish for a moment.

"I'm not sure." He replied honestly after a moment or two had past.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nate briefly recounted his meeting with Sophie less than an hour before. "I have no idea what he took from her…." He traded the glass for a ceramic mug and reached for the coffee pot—the fourth time since arriving home—and he shook his head wearily. "The thief in me knows that conversation she was having was going downhill, fast. Whoever was on the other end of the line was completely manipulating her emotions and she didn't stand a chance."

"She's in too deep." Eliot affirmed Nate's thoughts.

"That call had to be ended immediately and taken up again when she actually has a damn plan! Why couldn't she see that I was doing the right thing? That I was helping her?"

"She's a woman," Eliot spat as if that answered everything. "You did what you had to do, just forget about it."

Nate brought the coffee mug to his lips. No matter how strong he made the coffee it couldn't ease that growing tightness in his chest or the throbbing in his head. "But you didn't see the look on her face."


	3. Chapter 3

Around eight in the morning the team sat idly around the apartment, each looking rather pensive. Hardison had gleaned as much information from the cell phone that he could. Parker had exhausted Sophie's list of treasures and had more than enough details on each piece. Eliot looked as if he wanted to kill someone just to pass the time. Nate was about to climb out of his skin…or possibly a window. At this point there was nothing they could do without Sophie.

Nate grimaced as he heard water begin running through the pipes from upstairs. He didn't want to go up there. He didn't want to face her angry looks and bitter accusations but he knew the entire team expected him to.

"Are you gonna go up there?" Eliot's tone seemed to imply that he would use force if necessary.

Nate took a deep breath and wearily climbed the spiral staircase leading to his bedroom.

Sophie had just stepped into the bathroom and he could hear the shower running. He was content to wait. He could wait for this conversation for as long as necessary. He sat on his bed beside where he had laid her after half leading, half carrying her up the stairs early that morning. _"Rest, Sophie,_ he had whispered. _"You can kill me later."_ Nate smiled sadly. _"I hate you._" had been her reply. Those three words had hurt him more deeply than he thought he would ever hurt again. He told himself she was angry, she was exhausted, and she was terrified of…something. But no excuse could lighten his mind or his heart.

With a loud squeak the flow of water stopped and he heard her climb out of the shower. A moment later she was standing in front of him, a large brown towel wrapped her body and her wet hair laying limply about her shoulders. She was calm now but she wouldn't look him in the eye.

"The team's downstairs," he began weakly.

"You were right." She interrupted him bluntly, her voice quiet and tense. "You were right to end the call."

Nate sighed and rubbed his neck with his right hand. "Yeah." He didn't know what else to say. He _had_ been in the right. He risked a look at her face, with only four hours of sleep she still looked tired and drawn but more than that, he could still see a hint of fear in her eyes and in the stiffness of her stance.

"Sophie," his voice came out a little huskier than he intended. "Look at me. Please."

For just a moment her brown eyes flicked upward at the forlorn man in front of her and then she squeezed her eyes tightly shut before returning her gaze to the floor.

Nate stood and walked towards the staircase, pausing beside her. "We're going to help you." He promised, not daring to touch her bare shoulder though he desperately wanted some contact with her. "Come downstairs when you're ready."

A short fifteen minutes later Sophie descended the stairs looking a little anxious and very defiant. Nate was encouraged by the fact that she had taken the time to apply a little make-up, pull her hair into a bun, and select a simple, but flattering cotton dress.

The silence was uncomfortable. Eliot's frown deepened, Hardison shifted from one foot to the other and Parker stared at Sophie, carefully examining her. Nate tried to break the ice and moved towards Sophie, attempting to guide her to a chair. The brunette ignored his attempt and sat tensely beside Parker on the arm of the couch.

"I don't see why you're all here."

"Seriously?" Hardison stopped shifting and crossed his arms, matching Eliot's stance. "You want to play that game?"

"Don't even try it, Sweetheart." The endearing term Eliot used sounded oddly out of place with his rough tone.

"That's easy." Parker quipped, giving the older woman a strange look. "We're here to find out why you almost killed Nate."

Nate smiled at that and Sophie snuck a look at him. His jaw line was black and blue at this point and he was positioned in such a way that showed he was probably in a substantial amount of pain from other unseen injuries.

Sophie bit her lip nervously, an unusual action for her. "He was interfering where he shouldn't have, " she snapped, completely uncomfortable with her situation. "I didn't mean—none of this was supposed to—it was a mistake." She finished lamely.

"Well perhaps you're ready to tell us why you mistakenly went off the deep end." Nate joined the stance of the other two men and Sophie was now feeling like she was being interrogated.

"I just want you all to stay out of it!" her voice was bordering on shouting.

"But we're a team." Parker's quiet, confused statement softened Sophie's attitude and she looked at the girl.

"Parker, I need to do this one on my own."

"That's not how it works," Hardison interjected. "We've got your back. You can trust us with this."

Sophie took a moment looking from person to person, her gaze finally resting on Nate. If only she could tell them. "I wish I could," she finally replied with a sad expression, her eyes finally making contact with Nate's. There was a moment or two of silence as Sophie stared into the weary, blue eyes of her friend, partner, and occasional lover. "_He looks as haunted as I feel." _she thought to herself. A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. She knew he thought she was punishing him, she wasn't. She just couldn't see how any of this could work out. What a nightmare. _"But I can't do this alone now," _she realized. _"I proved that this morning with that damn call."_

She smiled sadly at Nate and nodded. He realized her decision before anyone else and he gave a small smile in relief. "Alright," she said aloud. "I can't tell you everything but I need your help."

This announcement was met with general mumbles of approval and Hardison picked up the remote and turned on the display screens, revealing several windows already opened.

"We tracked the number that called your phone," Nate explained. "It gave us some interesting information. Unless Hardison is wrong…"

"And I'm never wrong."

"The call was placed from a ritzy neighborhood near London and the phone belongs to one Philip Devereaux, 8th Marquess of Northampton." Nate nodded to Hardison and the younger man pushed a button on the remote and a picture of a distinguished looking man appeared on the screen.

"Prominent politician, so it seems… a member of the House of Lords." Nate said nonchalantly.

Sophie stared at the picture for a moment, her mind drifting. The man on display was in his late forties, a thick head of dark brown hair, grey creeping in at his temples. It was a candid shot, taken at some gala or another, while he was shaking hands with former Prime Minister, Sir John Major. Sophie smiled slightly at the scene before she could catch herself.

"Friend of yours?" Eliot interrupted her thoughts with the loaded question.

"I know him, naturally." She succeeded in keeping her voice steady and her manner uninterested.

"Get to the good part!" Parker's eyes were wide and she was gripping the pillow on her lap tightly, clearly enjoying the presentation.

"We did a little research…"

"'We' meaning me," Hardison clarified.

"Hardison did a little research and as it turns out your '_friend'_ isn't doing so well financially."

Sophie held up her hand to interrupt. "This is silly, Nate. Yes, it was his phone. I assumed it was. That's not who was talking to me."

"He's not finished!" Parker hissed excitedly, as if Sophie was spoiling the ending to a great movie. "C'mon, Hardison! Next picture! Next picture!"

"There's somethin' the matter with you," Eliot grumbled.

"I like a good story." She defended.

Hardison displayed the picture of a woman, probably mid-thirties, on the screen. The entire team turned to see Sophie's reaction and they weren't disappointed. She bit her lip again, and diverted her gaze to the floor before she realized she was the sole subject of their attention.

"Notice something?" Nate challenged.

"Pretty girl." She replied, trying to regain her disinterest.

"Beautiful girl, actually." Eliot couldn't help but smile.

"Now I've some pretty sweet software—I mean FBI sweet—that can compare facial characteristics and determine an identity. Now normally they just take a still-shot from security footage, compare it to a mug shot and BAM! you've got your bad guy. Now normally you have to have a minimum number of matching characteristics to make a positive match but I've loosened up the search parameters."

"Hardison, you're making my head hurt. Get to the point." Sophie was staring at the monitors now as Hardison ran the photograph of the woman through his tweaked program.

"I don't need a positive match because I'm not trying to find out who this is. I know who it is. Lady Elizabeth Devereaux, married to this handsome gentleman for sixteen years with one daughter, Rebecca Charlotte Devereaux…and according to this software…" Hardison pulled up a picture of Sophie beside Lady Elizabeth's and the program highlighted three areas on the women's faces that were a positive match. "She's your mother, your daughter, or your sister."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to all for the good reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. Just a few things...

Bblvr... I'm not making any promises but bear with me, you might still enjoy the sotry ;)

Friend... I scanned the last chapter for the misspelled word so I could fix it inly to find I didn't use the word 'warily' once in that chapter, only 'wearily' which is a different word alltogether (as in he was weary/tired...etc).

Anyway, I hope eveyone enjoys the update. :D

XXXXXXXXXX

"You never said you had a sister." Nate's tone wasn't accusing, he only sounded tired.

"I never said I didn't." Sophie stood up and sighed deeply. "Can you…" she looked at Hardison and waved her hand feebly at the screen. The young man turned off the monitors and Sophie seemed to breathe a little easier. "This is such a disaster." She mumbled under hear breath.

"Let us help, Sophie." Eliot prodded. "Tell us what happened and we'll kick some ass."

Sophie smiled genuinely for the first time in days and positioned herself on the arm on Nate's empty chair. She stared into space for a moment trying to gather her thoughts, twisting her fingers together anxiously. "Something in my sister's possession was stolen three days ago."

"You gonna fill us in on what it was?" Eliot was looking frustrated again.

"No," she replied simply. "It's not important."

"Of course it's important!" Parker sounded exasperated. "That's the best part!"

"It's something…of immense value to my family. But it's a rather delicate situation. I can't tell you." Sophie hurried on before her friends could complain. "Philip called me only an hour after you left, Nate. He was upset, he told me that…uh…it had been stolen and a note had been left asking for my contact information to be written down on the inside cover of a public phonebook somewhere in the heart of London."

"You? Why would the thief care about you? I thought it belonged to you sister." Nate sat down in the armchair Sophie was leaning against and she shifted, uncomfortable with the fact that her back was to him.

"Because!" She was beginning to realize how difficult this was going to become and started over. "It…it does. It does belong to her. But I'm afraid that this particular thief is aware of the fact that at one point…um…it…um…well, it um...well let's just say I'm rather invested in it myself." Sophie could feel Nate's eye boring into the back of her head. She took a deep breath to calm her emotions and continued with her story.

"I received a call only a few hours after I had spoken to Philip. Electronic voice, no background noise. He demanded 5 million and said he would give me one week to liquidate my assets and transfer it to Philip's account who would then finish the transaction." She looked at Nate sadly. "He warned that he would destroy our…´she searched for a generic term, "...our treasure if we involved anyone else. He was changing the time table when you walked in. He wants the money in two days."

"Pro or amateur?" Nate asked.

"Pro," she said decidedly. "There's no way he could have gotten a hold of this information without significant skill."

"Why would this guy go to you instead of the rich couple?" Hardison looked around, seeing the rest of the team was just as confused as he was with the exception of Nate who seemed to be deep in thought.

"Philip is having…financial problems of late. I have significantly deeper pockets."

"There's more, isn't there Sophie?" she turned to face Nate after this quiet question. "Your sister may own this…whatever it is, but it means something to you. More than it does to Elizabeth. Doesn't it?"

Sophie nodded reluctantly. "I suppose it does." There was hint of bitterness in her tone.

"This thief knows it. That's why he targeted you."

Sophie shook her head, clearly bewildered. "Like I said, he's quite the professional."

XXXXXXXXXX

Not long into the day Sophie's cell phone rang and she answered it with trembling hands.

"What the hell did you do?" the entire team could hear the scream from the other party.

"We're being played, Philip." She replied sternly…she was so tired of falling apart. "We're going to fix this, my team and I. I promise you." Her voice was becoming a tad unsteady and she cleared her throat.

She nodded a time or two while the crew watched her in anticipation, trying to read the rest of the conversation from Sophie's expressions. When she finally hung up Parker made an announcement.

"I don't like him. I say we let him fix his own problems. Stupid man."

"It's Sophie's problem too," Hardison reminded the thief.

"Do you really need it back?" Parker wasn't convinced.

Sophie gave a weary smile at the peek of Parker's loyalty and nodded. "Yes, Parker. I can't let this one go." A disturbed look came across the grifter's face and she sighed deeply. "Here." She held out the napkin she had scribbled a series of number's on. Nate took it from her with a questioning look. "He called Philip after you yelled at him to leave me alone." She explained. "This is the account we're supposed to transfer the money into by midnight tomorrow." She walked towards the front door. "I'm out on this one, guys." She paused. "Nate?"

"Yeah, Soph?

"I need you to fix this." She walked out of the apartment and Nate watched the door solemnly until he reached a decision.

"Hardison?"

"Yo."

"Dig a little deeper into Devereaux. I want to know more about these supposed financial problems Sophie mentioned." Nate sighed and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he moved towards the door.

"Nate, I'm with Parker on this one," said Eliot. "I don't trust this guy."

"Neither do I." and with that, Nate hurried out of the apartment after Sophie.

He caught up to the exhausted looking brunette and talked her into staying for just a minute. She moved to a table in the far back corner of the bar and Nate went to the bar for drinks. He smiled at her and handed her a glass of bourbon, keeping a mug of coffee for himself.

"It's a little early for this isn't it?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"You look like you could use it." Nate leaned back in his chair and watched as she began to sip the alcohol without further argument.

"What do you want, Nate?' she asked while setting down her glass.

"I want to know if you love this guy." His tone was completely flat and he was watching Sophie intently for a reaction. She took a moment for another sip of bourbon, visibly shaken by his words.

"What?…why would you think…?" Sophie decided to stop trying to understand Nate's logic (that was always a losing battle). She opted for the simple truth. "I used to."

"Is that going to be a problem?" If she insisted on keeping him and the rest of the team in the dark on what they were after then, Nate reasoned, she damn well better divulge any potential problem areas.

"Not with Philip but very possibly with my sister."

"Care to elaborate?"

Sophie frowned at the man across from her. "Not really." She paused a moment, knowing Nate was waiting for her to explain anyway. "We were engaged a very long time ago. I left." Sophie stopped to judge Nate's reaction. His immovable expression urged her on. "He married my sister two months later. I think… I think she begrudges the fact that she was second violinist."

Nate smiled, stood up, and walked to the staircase at the back of the bar. "You know…" his voice stopped her at the door. "As long as you're playing they'll always be second to you." Sophie furrowed her brows together, unsure if that was a compliment or a cut. "Be ready to go in a couple hours," he said before ascending the stairs.

"Where are we going?" she called after him.

Without turning around Nate replied. "London."


	5. Chapter 5

Nate stared at Sophie's sleeping form across the aisle of the plane. Her head was resting against the window pane, her arms wrapped about her body. "_She looks cold"_ he thought to himself. Parker had the aisle seat and she was entertaining herself by counting the number of things on the plane she could steal, he could hear her counting softly to herself…97, 98… Nate wondered how long she had been at it. Hardison was on his phone, using the airplane's wifi, and Eliot had insisted sitting in the back of the plane "to keep an eye on things." Nate looked at his watch and then proceeded to massage the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Two more hours before they land in London and he had nothing to do but think.

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate stood impatiently inside Sophie and Parker's hotel room. "C'mon Sophie, we're going to be late."

She glared angrily at him. "I don't see why we have to be at this event!" she declared loudly, dressed only in a slip. A wide-eyed Parker nervously side-stepped Nate and went to wait in the lobby. "What if it goes late? How are you going to transfer the money?"

Nate crossed his arms over his chest. "You're 'out' on this one, hmm? You can't have it both ways, Sophie. You either do this blind or you don't do it at all."

She sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him imploringly. "Nate, don't play with this guy. Don't try a con. He's a pro. He'll do whatever he has to in order to get this money."

Nate uncrossed his arms and looked across the room at the broken woman. _"What on earth did this bastard take from her?" _ "I need you to spend the evening with you sister." He finally admitted. "This is a fundraising event for some charity that Devereaux is the head of, _Children of Tomorrow_…or something."

Sophie grimaced at the news. "It's absolutely necessary?" she didn't wait for an answer and stood to slip a dress over her head. "I only see them three times a year, at most." She informed Nate who crossed the room to button the back of her evening gown. "It's agonizingly awkward."

"Awkward?" Nate put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "You?"

"You don't know my sister." She stepped back and held her arms outward. The black silk swept gracefully over her curves, pooling at her feet. Two straps hung at the very edge of her shoulders and draped down the sides of her almost-indecently bare back. "What do you think?"

"Intoxicatingly beautiful."

She seemed annoyed with the answer, grabbed her clutch and started for the door.

"Shoes, Sophie."

She grunted in frustration and turned sharply, wondering where she had set her stilettos.

"Hey," Nate moved directly in her line of vision. "You still won't look me in the eye. Why?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice was just above a whisper.

"For not looking at me?" he smiled gently.

"I'm sorry for this mess," she looked up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time in four days.

"I trust you, Sophie." He said, handing her the pair of shoes. "I trust you enough to believe you when you say you can't tell me anything more."

She smiled genuinely, placing a hand on his chest to steady herself while she slipped into the high heels. "Thank you," she offered. "You have no idea what that means to me." She looked into his eyes again; she told herself it was to assure him she wasn't upset but she ended up looking a lot longer than she intended.

Nate felt the familiar ache in his chest start up again. He wanted to rid her eyes of the lingering fear. "Sophie, do you love me enough to do exactly what I say tonight even though you might not understand why?" Sophie's expression of shock caused Nate to rethink his words.

"Trust!" he cursed to himself for the horrendous gaffe. "Trust! Do you trust me enough?"

An unreadable look came over the grifter's face, a soft look of amusement mixed with sadness. Her gaze never wavered as she nodded in answer to his amended question. "I trust you, Nate."

"Well," he extended his arm to her. "Then let's go steal back your mystery treasure." Arm in arm the two walked towards the lobby, joined with the others, and set off in the cold, London night.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sophie stood stiffly beside the bar, holding a champagne flute tightly. She was surrounded by beautiful lights, glittering chandeliers, and some rather dashing gentlemen but she didn't see any of it. Nate had given her an earbud and a wedding band and had told her to stand by the bar and that's where she was now pacing.

"Who am I married to, exactly?" she whispered, looking down at the glittering wedding band.

"Me." Nate's voice came across. "Hardison's busy with Devereaux's accounts and I need Eliot to search the building…although I'm not sure how we're supposed to find it when we don't know what to look for."

"No!" she cried. "I mean, you have to."

"I have to what?"

"You have to…to…to find it," she finished lamely. _"Here?" _Sophie stopped pacing and looked around the grand hall. _"Why would he think the thief would be here?"_

"Why Sophie? Don't you think Eliot's a little, er…better qualified to be snooping around?"

"You have to." She reaffirmed. "The others won't be able to…transport it as easily." She took a shaky breath. "You really think here, Nate? So close?"

Nate didn't answer. He was busy giving Eliot his bowtie and "wedding ring," and putting on the other man's glasses and server's vest. "Sophie, I'm sending your new 'husband' your way." Both men jumped out of the van and started walking towards the building.

"Alright guys," he whispered to the team. "Here we go."


	6. Chapter 6

Sophie Devereaux, no matter what her name or occupation, had always prided herself on being able to remain calm in any given situation. That was her unique skill; her ability to adapt, to remain the master of an event or conversation with total disregard to the consequences. Parker could run, Hardison could disappear, Eliot could fight, and Nate…Nate was just damn lucky. Now here she was, the famous grifter, still conning but completely unaware of who she was lying to or why.

"What are you doing here, Charlotte?"

Sophie's back stiffened at the deep voice behind her. The richness of the sound she remembered from years past, the harshness of the tone was new to her. She turned to find herself face to face with the Marquess.

"Hello, Philip." She didn't bother smiling; the situation was too public for that besides the fact that she didn't feel like smiling. She took a moment to survey the man in front of her. He looked good, damn good, as always. He was immaculately dressed in a tuxedo, his black hair smoothed back, every hair perfectly in place. The shoes were expensive; Italian she assumed. But it certainly wasn't his fashion sense that held Sophie's interest all those years ago. He was a tall man, nearing 6'4", with broad shoulders and handsome features. And when he smiled…good lord, when he smiled…His irritated voice cut off her observations and memories.

"I'd repeat the question but I wouldn't want to be rude." He closed the distance between them and looked at her intensely. "You aren't supposed to be here. Do you want to ruin everything?"

Sophie tried to mask the hurt that this greeting brought and instead focused on his voice. Why didn't she sense the same fear that her own voice carried? She only heard anger. "I know this is hard to understand but we're going to fix this."

"We?" his furry was barely masked. "I told you to keep those idiots out of it!"

Sophie sighed and took a step backwards, suddenly uncomfortable with the intimacy their attitude suggested. "Lower your voice. I'm just as worried as you are but I trust these people, Philip! They can fix this."

"Aww," Hardison's voice came through the earbud. "The girl finally admits she trusts us. Ain't that sweet? We're finally at a point where we can talk about…"

"Shut up, Hardison." Eliot growled.

"How?" Philip wouldn't let the matter go.

"Excuse me?"

"How are they going to 'fix this'? How much did you tell them?"

"Nothing, Philip. Calm down and lower your voice."

"Nothing?" the man seemed considerably relieved.

"They know about the money…and the account information." She faltered as Nate's voice came across the line.

"Sophie, stop. Just tell him we're here to make sure things don't go wrong."

She kept silent for a moment. Why would Nate want her to lie to Philip? He had just as much to lose as she did. Or was she even lying? What were they doing here?

"They're not going to interfere." She finally stated, praying she was uttering a lie and not the truth. It was terrifying enough that she was completely helpless in this mess but even the idea of her team just standing on the sidelines playing referee left her numb.

"Oh great." A female voice drifted into the conversation. "You just had to jump into this didn't you?"

Sophie scowled at the woman approaching. "I have just as much right to be here as you do," she snapped.

"No you don't!" the younger woman hissed. "You gave up that right. This is our business and our business alone."

Sophie stared at her sister and it occurred to her that at one point they used to be a team, the two of them creating all sorts of mischief at so many fancy to-do's just like this one. Of course they were much younger then, only a couple of kids.

"Too late," Sophie replied soberly. "I'm here." She turned to the bar and traded in her champagne flute for a glass of brandy. _"I might as well,"_ she reasoned. _"I'm useless in this con anyway."_

"It's a little early for something so strong don't you think, darling?" Eliot walked up beside Sophie and slipped his arm easily around her waist and squeezed her affectionately.

She smiled weakly at him, glad for his support even if it was only a con.

"New man?" Elizabeth asked with a sneer.

"Husband actually," Eliot spoke up, keeping his voice calm but firm. He smiled and extended his hand to Philip. "Eliot Harrison."

"Philip Devereaux, Marquees of Northampton." Eliot couldn't resist squeezing the man's hand just a little too firmly, relishing the barely masked wince.

"So you're part of the ragtag group Charlotte spends her time with?" Eliot wondered why Elizabeth's voice was so full of malice.

Sophie interrupted quickly. "We met on the stage."

Eliot chuckled at this, he couldn't help it. "I'm the better actor." He boasted.

The look Sophie gave him was so full of irritation and affection that he couldn't resist squeezing her arm a little and leaning in for a "kiss on the cheek."

"They're working on it, Sophie," he whispered into her ear. "Just follow my lead."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Parker, how's it going?" Nate asked as he offered champagne to the mingling guests.

"I'm a quarter of the way there." Parker smiled brightly at an aging man, touching his arm flirtatiously with one hand and picking his pocket with the other.

"Okay, go ahead and drop off what you have with Hardison and then finish up. You've got twenty minutes."

Parker made a face. "You've got twenty minutes." She mocked as she stomped towards the exit.

"Gracefully, Parker." Nate reminded her. "You're supposed to be a lady."

"Do I look like a guy to you?" she grumbled.

"He meant the title, Parker," Hardison calmed the thief as he stifled a laugh.

"I heard that, Hardison." Parker opened the door of the van and climbed in. She dumped an assortment of wallets, money clips, jewelry, pill boxes, etc into a box. "Have fun!" she stared at him a moment and then slapped him on the back of the head.

"Woman! What was…"

"For laughing." She gave him a warning look and slipped out of the van and headed back inside. Hardison smiled to himself for a moment. It was the first time he had seen that emerald green gown on Parker. He wondered if it had come from the grifter's closet. The figure skimming style and low cut front was much more Sophie's style than the tomboyish thief's.

"Parker, you look beautiful."

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate had finally found a place where he could think. It was a locked room up above the noise of the crowd. Looking around, he assumed they used the room as a bridal room for the countless weddings held at the hall throughout the year. He sat in one of the wingback chairs and brought his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose, the action was becoming a habit lately. Nate listened mindlessly to the chatter in his ear as he thought through the facts of the job.

"_Who am I kidding?" _ Nate asked himself. _"I don't know anything." _ Nate sighed deeply. There had to be some way to figure this out without Sophie compromising whatever the hell she thought she would be compromising.

"_You do know something."_ Nate admitted with a sigh. _"But you can't do that to Sophie. She wouldn't forgive you… so the question is would she forgive you if you can't fix this?"_


	7. Chapter 7

I hope everyone is ejoying this! There should only be two or maybe three more chapters after this.

Happy reading!

* * *

><p>"So you're an actor, Mr. Harrison?"<p>

Eliot studied the woman sitting beside him. Small build, around 5'3", and a tomboyish body-type that was only accentuated by the tailored structuring of her gown. There was a sharpness about her; not only in her looks but in her manner of speaking and the way she carried herself; a distinct contrast from the soft, sensual allure that Sophie possessed.

"I act." He responded lightly. "And I'm pretty darn good but it's not how I make a living." His southern drawl was apparent with every word he spoke and he could sense the condescending thoughts of the well-dressed man across the table. "And please, Darlin', call me Eliot."

"What do you do, Eliot?" Philip spoke; his pompous tone was not lost on either Eliot or Sophie.

"Well, Phil," Eliot was pleased with the wince he achieved by the coarse familiarity of the name. "I do a little bit of everything. I'm a Texan man. Cattle, oil, cotton… the list goes on and on, my friend."

Elizabeth laughed softly and raised an eyebrow at her sister. "Cattle?" she asked softly.

Sophie wasn't interested in sparring with her sister but she couldn't resist leaning forward and discretely resting her right hand on Elizabeth's knee, showcasing the 18.7 carat ruby ring she had stolen from a Moroccan prince. "Those cattle bought me this ruby last week, sister dear" she whispered. "I wouldn't be so quick to mock if I were you."

"So he's rich." Elizabeth affected an uninterested expression and leaned back in her chair, still keeping her tone low. "Does he have any idea how you're manipulating him? I bet he doesn't even know why he's here."

"Sophie," Nate's voice came across. "Don't answer that. Eliot, dance with her."

Sophie rolled her eyes but stood obediently as Eliot extended his hand to lead her away from the table.

"You want me to kill them both?" he whispered in her ear as they began a slow waltz. "I can take 'em out easy. Nobody would notice. I doubt anyone would really care."

Sophie smiled and just leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thank you for helping me, Eliot."

"You ever going to tell me what I'm helping you with?"

"You're a good dancer." She lifted her head and smiled again.

In that moment Eliot felt truly sorry for his friend. He knew what it was like to become alienated from your family and eventually hated by them. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly with one hand and pulled her closer to him with the other, kissing her lips lightly.

"Eliot…"

He interrupted her with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Soph. I'm just trying to talk you into letting me take 'em out."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Just keep dancing with me," she asked. "Because if I have to spend much more time at that table I might take you up on your offer."

XXXXXXXXX

Nate scowled at the conversation between the two friends. If Eliot thought for one second that he was going to let him… Nate cut off his own train of thought. There was no use going into that territory, it would just fuel his craving for a glass of bourbon…hell, a bottle of bourbon.

"_Focus, damnit."_

Nate finally knew what he was going to do.

"Hardison?"

"Yo."

"Okay, go ahead and transfer the five mill into Devereaux's account as planned and then start going through the items Parker picked up and see if you can find anything useful. You know what to look for?"

"Why does everyone always assume I never listen to the plan? I know the plan, Nate. I know the plan better than…"

"Parker," Nate interrupted the rant. ""Parker, I need you to get into the sound room. They're about to start the presentation."

"I'm…" he sighed deeply. "I'm going to start looking through the upstairs rooms."

"How can you find something when you don't know what it is?" Parker was considerably aggravated at this type of theft. "Not gonna happen, Nate."

"He'll know." Sophie asserted confidently.

"Yeah," Parker snorted. "Whatever."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hi." Parker appeared noiselessly behind the sound tech. "Who are you?" she asked, leaning against the sound board.

"You…can't…uh, be in here, ma'm." he stuttered.

"Oh." Parker shrugged. "Okay." She swiftly tased the unsuspecting man and slipped into his now empty chair.

"Okay, Hardison." She said cheerfully. "What do I need to do?"

XXXXXXXXXX

This was the eighth room Nate needed to search and the eighth room that was locked. This was a job for Parker, or for Eliot… not him. This was not his thing. He was the mastermind. He could read people. That's what he was good at. He should be downstairs with Sophie not breaking into a seemingly infinite number of rooms to search through maintenance equipment and party rentals.

"Did you find anything in that stuff, Hardison?" he asked as he finally unlocked the door.

"Yeah. There's some stuff we can definitely use."

"Alright, get it back to Parker." He looked around the room briefly. A lot of cardboard boxes, all evidently there for at least several weeks. Nothing out of place, nothing unusual, just like the other seven rooms.

"Number nine here we come." Nate exited the room and nearly crashed into a large, rough looking man in a cheap suit with the bulge of a gun on his right side.

"Hey!" Nate affected a slur. "Where's Nancy?" he crossed his arms, swaying slightly, eyeing the big man.

"You're not supposed to be up here." The accent was foreign…German, perhaps? Nate wasn't sure. "Get downstairs. Sober up." He leaned aggressively against Nate who held up his arms in surrender.

"Woah, man! I was just lookin' for a little fun, take it easy." Nate backed up and slipped by the man, stumbling down the hallway. What the burly man didn't notice is that Nate was studying the man's body language the entire time, gleaning what he could.

"Eliot," he began, once in the elevator. "We've got a semi-professional up here. Austrian, I think. He's guarding something."

"Gun?" the hitter whispered.

"Two. One on his back."

"Arms folded across his chest or down at his sides?"

"Sides. Hands clenched."

"You were right. He probably has a little bit of training, nothing too extensive. Clothes?"

"Cheap suit."

"He's a hired gun, not invested in this personally. He's probably a decent hitter; good but not the best." Eliot paused and gave a little chuckle. "Still a hell of a lot better than you, though."

"Alright, I'll figure something out."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Nate, are you still looking?" Sophie couldn't concentrate on the introduction speech a matronly looking woman was presenting.

"Mmm."

"Nate!" She heard a short exasperated sigh.

"Sophie, let me be."

"Are you looking?"

"Are you at the bar again?"

Sophie put her glass down on the marble counter, looking a little sheepish. "No."

"She is too." Parker piped up.

"Stay out of it." Nate and Sophie said at the same time.

"Nate…"

"Sophie, please. I'll be incredibly lucky if I get out of here tonight without looking like a piece of swiss cheese. Now if I find something I'll let you know."

Sophie mumbled something under her breath in protest and began to walk back to the table, reluctantly leaving her fresh drink behind.

"You want to help?" Nate asked suddenly.

"Of course!" Sophie stopped her progression towards Eliot and her sister and began backing up towards the exit.

"Tell me about your sister."

That's helping you how?" Sophie asked sharply.

"I can analyze their lives all I want to and try and judge who their enemies are and who stands to gain or lose from whatever, but that doesn't do me half as much good as a little insight into their character."

"I can't help you. She's a mystery to me." Sophie's tone was flat and unyielding.

"Do you trust her?"

"I used to. How is this helping?"

"Fine." Nate switched gears. "Eliot, tell me how she's acting."

"She's uncomfortable." Eliot replied quickly. "She doesn't want to be here. She's angry with Devereaux over something. She's uneasy and… and when Sophie's around she's pretty damn uptight."

Sophie had reappeared in the ballroom and stared at her sister from across the room. She hadn't noticed any of the behaviors Eliot had just listed.

"Does she seem afraid?" Nate probed.

"No."

All communication was silent for a moment and then Nate cleared his throat. "Sophie are you back at the table?"

"No."

"Good. Keep clear of your sister and the marquees for a few minutes, stay near the exit if possible. Hardison, make sure everything is ready to go when I give you the signal. Parker, be sure to return the personal items. And… Eliot?

"Yeah man?"

"Stick close to Sophie and keep an eye out, I have no idea how this is going to go."

There was a distinct beep and Sophie gasped. "Nate? Nate!"

"Damnit." Hardison groaned. "He turned it off. What the hell does he think he's doing? Does he have any idea how much effort I put into these things? We have them for a reason you know."

"Shut up, Hardison." Parker reprimanded. "Nate knows what he's doing."

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate rubbed his forehead as he decided he was getting too old for this crap. _"The next time Sophie loses something she's on her own. Stupid tears. Works every time. She knows it too. Damn her. Damn this frigid London weather. Damn this moron and his guns."_ Nate surveyed the guard once again from the cover of a maintenance closet. He opened the door and stumbled purposefully out of the closet.

"Damnit!" he cursed. "You're still here?" He looked up at the guard from his position on the floor and began to laugh. "Your job sucks, man!"

The Austrian looked none too pleased and quickly strode towards Nate. "Get up." He barked.

Nate ignored the command and affected a drunken laugh.

"I said get up!" he roughly kicked Nate in the ribs who responded with a loud yelp.

"Hey! C'mon! That hurt!"

"Get up, now." He drew his gun and pointed it at Nate's head.

Nate quickly sobered up and stared directly into the man's eyes. "Maybe you should come down here." For just a moment a confused look passed over the man's eyes. Nate used that brief instant to swing his leg around and kick the man right behind his knees. The swift action brought the burly man down to Nate's level and the gun skittered across the hall. While Nate had the upper hand for the briefest moment he wasn't nearly skilled enough to take advantage of it and the large man quickly regained his senses and reached for the second, concealed gun. Nate attempted to use his full body weight to knock the man backwards but it only sent a searing pain through his right shoulder. Blinded with pain he tried to stand and face his adversary but was knocked backwards with a heavy blow to the abdomen.

"I saw this going a little better," he spat cynically as he tried to shake his head clear.

"Me as well," the other man responded. "I had hoped you would be dead by now." He gave Nate a malicious grin and raised his remaining pistol, slamming the butt of the gun into Nate's skull.


	8. Chapter 8

I had fun with this chapter... I hope you do too.

Oh, and I know I said two more chapters but I have a real problem with wrapping things up quickly (there always seems to be one more thing to add); but I'm working on it, I promise!

-Allissa

* * *

><p>Nate opened his eyes cautiously; checking to make sure no one would see him regaining consciousness. The room was pitch black and he was alone. He touched the side of his head gingerly and winced at the slight pressure. <em>"That hurts worse every time."<em> He reached his right hand up to his ear and gratefully touched the earbud. _"At least there's one thing that went well."_ He left the device off and gingerly rose to his feet. It was a small room, he noted as he began to walk about. Empty. No boxes, chairs, or equipment. Probably near the back of the long hallway he had been searching. He ran his hand along the back wall.

"_Aha!"_ his hand met a window frame and he searched for the pull to open the blinds. A small stream of moonlight entered through the dingy window and Nate inspected the room more intently. A small vinyl covered card table was set up in the corner with two folding chairs beside it. No dust, he noted; it had been used recently.

"_This is the room I was looking for_," he chuckled. _"My thanks to the Austrian."_ Still, it was a little anti-climatic. No treasure chest, no long lost Monet or van Gough, no incriminating documents of some family secret. _"Alright, Sophie. What are you so scared of losing?"_

Two doors. _"One to the hallway…the other a closet?" _he tried the knob, locked of course. He removed the lock pick from his pocketand got to work. It took twice as much time as it would have taken Parker but the effect was the same. The newly opened space was as dark as the room he was in but he could tell the space was much too large to be a closet; adjoining rooms.

"_The search continues."_

The second room had no windows and Nate stood soundlessly by the door while waiting for his eyes to adjust. He stiffened as he heard the sound of breathing more rapid than his own. _"This better not be the Austrian." _As his pupils dilated Nate was better able to see around the room. It was even emptier than the first and there was nothing he could see.

"Touch me again and I'll bite your hand off."

The sound of the angry childlike voice nearly made Nate jump out of his skin. He did another sweep around the room and this time saw a small bundle in the far corner of the room that he now recognized as a young girl, no older than eight or nine.

"I mean it." She spat. Nate could see her temporary bravado was fading as he approached her and she leaned away from him and looked down at the floor.

The situation began to click in place in Nate's mind and he knelt down, noting the child's hands and feet were bound with duct tape.

"Rebecca?" he asked softly. The child looked up at him curiously.

"Rebecca Devereaux? Is that your name?" She nodded in response, a scowl still on her face. She was as tired of this game as he was.

"_A kid. This whole secrecy nonsense was because it was a damn kid."_ Nate could kick himself for not catching this sooner. _"Sophie's niece. No wonder she's so uptight about the whole thing. _

"My name is Nathan Ford," he told her, offering an encouraging smile in spite of the darkness. "I'm going to get you back to your parents, okay?"

The little girl's face changed in an instant. "You're Nate?" she asked incredulously. He nodded dumbly and Rebecca thrust her hands towards him to unbind. "Well then hurry up!" she demanded.

Nate had to keep himself from laughing at the absurdity of the girl's manner. He freed her hands and feet and then pulled himself upright. "Stay quiet," he warned.

"Eliot," he said as he turned his com back on. "I could really use you about now."

There was a moment or two of silence followed by an "_excuse me, ma'm_" from Eliot.

"What the hell, Nate? The man cursed a moment later. "Don't do that again!" Nate didn't say anything and waited for Eliot to calm down. "Where are you?"

"Third floor, in one of the rooms at the end of the hallway."

"Is the Austrian still there?"

"I'm assuming so since I'm still here." Nate was moving back into the moonlit room motioning for Rebecca to follow. "What time is it, Eliot?"

"2352."

"What?"

"Eight minutes to midnight."

"Alright, we'd better hurry if we're going to do this."

Eliot sighed and looked at Sophie who was anxiously listening to the dialogue. "Are you sure you want to do this the way we planned?" he asked the mastermind.

Nate looked at the little girl waiting in the shadows. "Yeah," he responded. "Just the way we planned."

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, Rebecca beside him. Nate shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Eliot would arrive soon…well, eventually. Nate tried to walk through the plan in his mind, wondering what was taking so long.

"So how long is this going to take?" Rebecca whispered. "I'm hungry."

Nate smiled tensely and shrugged while placing his hand over the earbud. "That depends on my friends." He didn't want the rest of the team to realize what they were retrieving just yet. And Sophie…well he wasn't going to talk to her about this until much later; never, if possible.

"My Aunt Charlotte?"

"Yeah."

"And other people too? One is Eliot, right?"

"Yeah, Becky. Eliot, Parker, and Hardison."

"No other girls?" Even in the dim lighting Nate could see the girl's disapproving look.

"Parker is a girl."

"Parker doesn't sound like a girl name."

Nate didn't respond. He had forgotten how long a conversation with a kid could be. "How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

"Seven and two months."

"Second grade?"

"Yup. I'm home right now because…well for vacation, I guess. I mean I was until they took me and put me in that room and then in this room. How long are we gonna be in here again?"

"That's a good question." Nate uncovered the earbud and spoke with a growl. "Can somebody please tell me why this is taking a millennium?"

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, man, this is your plan so get off my back!" Eliot growled back, standing in the foyer with the rest of the team.

"Nate…" Sophie's voice broke through and Nate groaned. "Nate, have you…have you…"

"Sophie, please. Not now. Hardison, did you and Parker get those items back to their guests?"

"Yeah, four high-level officers are here, Nate."

"Can I keep the emerald bracelet?" Parker threw in.

"No." Nate, Eliot, and Hardison said in unison.

"Nate!" Sophie's voice was urgent and she was becoming agitated. "Are you still looking? What happened? Why are you locked up?"

"Sophie, get a hold of yourself."

"Who's Sophie?" Rebecca whispered. Nate frowned and put his finger to his lips to quiet her.

"Hardison, turn off her com."

"What?" Nate winced at the deafening decibel of Sophie's shriek. "Alec Hardison, don't you dare."

"Hardison, do it."

"Oh c'mon, Soph. You know I have to." Hardison's pitiful voice replied. Sophie's angry retort was cut off from Nate's ears as Hardison silenced the device.

"Okay Hardison, go ahead and switch those speeches out as well as the presentation. Is Devereaux on stage yet?"

"He's on his way," Parker replied. "Should I stall him?"

"Don't tase him, Parker." Nate answered wearily.

"Switched." Hardison cheerfully interjected.

"Okay, is the five million already in his account?"

"Yeah, and by using my crazy awesome but seriously underappreciated skills it looks like the money came directly from the _Children of Tomorrow_ fund. It won't hold up in court but…"

"That's okay," Nate cut him off. "As long as there's an investigation into his accounts he won't be going anywhere soon."

"You're sure he's the one?" Eliot asked softly, probably in an attempt to keep Sophie out of the conversation.

"I know he is," replied Nate while looking sadly at Rebecca. He still couldn't believe any man would sell his own daughter for five million dollars. _"Fucking bastard"_ Nate cursed inwardly. "I would tear his life to shreds if I could." He explained to the group. "He's damn lucky that Sophie wouldn't stand for it."

"She's gonna be mad." Parker seemed to have a talent for stating the obvious.

"We're leaving her sister out of it. I'll be okay." Nate's statement was more wishful than factual.

"Alright Nate, I'll be there in a minute." And with Eliot's promise the team scattered to do their jobs and the chatter in Nate's ear quieted.

XXXXXXXXXX


	9. Chapter 9

"So how did you know my name was Nate?" he asked as the thought suddenly occurred to him.

"She told me about you." Rebecca said as she stood up.

"Your Aunt Soph—uh—Charlotte?" Nate was getting tired of this game.

"Yeah. She said she wanted you to meet me because I remind you of somebody."

"Who?"

Rebecca shrugged and started walking aimlessly around the room. "Do you like pizza?"

This time Nate laughed quietly, almost all of his tension gone. "Sure. Still hungry?"

"Well I haven't eaten anything since breakfast." She complained, rubbing her stomach. "And it was fried eggs. I hate fried eggs. I ate it anyway because I was hungry but I thought it was gross. Do you like fried eggs?"

"I like omelets." Nate was actually beginning to feel something akin to enjoyment over this pointless conversation.

"Oh." The little girl's nose wrinkled. "I don't know if I like that."'

"I make them for your aunt."

She smiled brightly. "Can you make me one?"

"I don't see a stove." Nate said with a chuckle.

"Some other time, silly." She reprimanded.

Nate let the question go unanswered and he sprang to his feet at the sound of a loud crash down the hall.

"Is that Eliot?" Rebecca moved closer to Nate and it was the first sign of fear he had seen in her.

"It's about time." Nate grumbled, moving to stand against the wall by the door. He instinctively reached a hand out to pull Rebecca closer. "Stay behind me," he cautioned. "Eliot doesn't pick locks."

A few moments, and several crashes later, Eliot burst through the door looking rather ferocious.

"Let's go." The men started out into the hallway but then Eliot stopped dead in his tracks. "Woah, woah, woah. What the hell, Nate?" He had just seen Rebecca for the first time and he didn't look pleased. "Their kid? It was a kidnapping? Sophie damn well could have said something!"

Nate sent the other man a savage look. "Yeah, tell me about it." Nate moved for the elevators, waiting only a few moments for Eliot and Rebecca to follow. As they piled into the cage Rebecca put her hands on her hips as she surveyed her second rescuer.

"You're shorter than I thought you would be."

Eliot frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah? Well you're…"

"Eliot." Nate's voice had that patronizing "warning tone" to it. "Has Sophie figured out what's going on?"

"No and she's as mad as…er, well, you know."

Hardison met them as they walked out of the elevator. "Eliot, this is the third earbud you've broken in two months. Do you have any idea…" He trailed off as he noticed Rebecca evaluating him from a safe position behind Nate. "Woah. Didn't see that coming."

Nate sighed and gave the child a nudge. "This way." He grumbled as he walked towards the foyer. The other two men walked into the main hall as Philip Devereaux's voice came over the speakers.

XXXXXXXXX

Sophie watched Philip closely as he walked towards the makeshift stage. His cool demeaned left her dumbfounded. That coupled with Nate's questions regarding her sister left her with an unshakeable feeling of dread.

"_Could they know something they're not telling me?"_ Sophie shook her head to clear those thoughts. _"No. They wouldn't. Not if Rebecca was in danger. They wouldn't play those games if their child…" _Sophie almost lost her composure in the midst of the crowd standing around the bar. _"Oh dear god, they would." _ The realization hit her like one of Eliot's right hooks.

Philip began speaking; nothing interesting, just your typical fundraising speech. "We're honored for your participation…blah, blah, blah… You're a vital part of this organization…blah, blah, blah… We're trying to make a difference…" As the boring rhetoric continued Sophie felt the slow, steady burn of rage building inside of her. With every insincere word he uttered her furry mounted. She had almost reached a boiling point when Philip faltered. He looked rather stunned for a moment, at a loss for words, before feebly continuing. But it wasn't the same speech. He was looking around the room, searching for something as he babbled on, barely making any sense at all. He finally laid eyes on something at the back of the room and he stopped speaking and grew deathly pale.

"I didn't mean…" Philip began to stutter and back slowly away from the podium. "It wasn't supposed to…"

Sophie started backing up towards the door. She didn't want to watch this, she couldn't watch this. She didn't know what they had put in his notes or what they had in the back of the room that startled him so badly and she didn't particularly care. She fled towards the doors at the same time Philip fled the stage, only to be stopped by the four officials Parker had uncovered.

She crashed through the doors and into the foyer, unsure if she should head into the freezing winter night or try to look for the rest of the team. _"Damn them!" _she inwardly screamed. _"Damn Philip, damn Elisabeth, damn Nate…damn, damn, damn! It can't be true. Philip, you bloody wanker how could you be so different from what you were? So very, very different. Maybe they're wrong? How much of this did they cook up? Oh bloody hell!" _

XXXXXXXXX

Nate decided to wait on the floor as Philip dived into his "speech". He slid to the floor, holding his head in one hand. _"My god, make it stop pounding." _ His fingertips contacted sticky, half-dried blood and he pulled his hand down.

"Your face is turning purple." Rebecca informed him as she sat down beside him, a little too close for Nate's comfort level.

"That's what happens when a 300 pound man hits you repeatedly." He replied dryly. "Scoot over."

She ignored his order and scrutinized his face. "What happens if a kid's parents are in jail?" she asked without emotion.

Nate floundered for an answer. "Adopted maybe," he finally managed. "Or they live with relatives… but why would you ask…"

"I want my mom." Rebecca said firmly.

Through the childish bravado with which she forced the words Nate sensed a bit of uncertainty. This is what he excelled at, reading people; although he wasn't so sure he wanted to read too deeply into this child's thoughts.

"Soon," he promised.

"No," she said, looking up at him, misery clear in her eyes. "She doesn't want me."

For the first time, Nate turned himself so he could directly into the little girl's face. Her depressed expression tore into his heart but that was not what stunned him into silence.

"_Oh Sophie."_ He offered Rebecca a small smile as his eyes traced the contours of her face. Her forehead, her eyes, her cheekbones, her lips, her chin…all her features, though smaller and fuller were too familiar. His analytical mind did in an instant what Hardison boasted his facial recognition program could do in minutes. The knowledge he gleaned from this comparison left him feeling tired and hurt. _"You could have just told me. You should have just explained everything. How long have you been keeping this…"_ he stopped as his brain answered his own question. _"Eight years. Almost eight year s and you never breathed a word to anyone." _

Rebecca shrieked and jumped to her feet, running as fast as she could across the marble room.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sophie was so immersed in her own rage and grief that she hadn't noticed Nate and Rebecca sitting in the opposite corner of the entryway. She was startled by a sudden childish squeal and then was almost knocked to the floor by the momentum of the eight-year-old.

"Rebecca!" Sophie dropped to her knees and held the young girl as close to herself as she could. "Oh sweetheart, darling…" she pried Rebecca away and frantically examined her. "Are you alright?"

Rebecca didn't respond but only buried her face in Sophie's shoulder and entwined her arms around Sophie's neck.

"Oh Rebecca," Sophie crooned. "It's okay. It's all over. Everything is going to go back to normal…" Sophie stopped herself as the image of Philip being thrown into a jail cell entered her mind. "Well…almost everything," she amended.

"He's going to jail, isn't he?"

Sophie examined the young face in shock. "What makes you think…?" she was interrupted as the doors crashed open and four men practically dragged Devereaux out of the hall and into an awaiting patrol car.

"You're not supposed to sell your kid," she replied matter-of-factly.

"No! He wasn't selling you, sweetheart." Sophie frantically tried to drum up a lie; it wasn't right that any child should know how unloved they were by their own father. "He was just trying to…"

"It's okay." Rebecca whispered and then hugged her aunt again tightly.

"Rebecca!" Elizabeth walked into the foyer and held her arms out.

Sophie thought that for just a moment Rebecca's grip tightened around Sophie's neck before the girl dropped her arms and walked to her mother.

Elizabeth pulled the child to her side and kissed the top of her head. "I was so worried, sweetheart." She said before kissing the small head again and then offering her hand. Rebecca hesitated a moment, looking back first at Sophie and then to Nate.

"Come on, sweet," Elizabeth prompted, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. "Let's go home."

Rebecca grasped her mother's hand and followed her out of the building. Elizabeth neither hesitated or even looked at her sister as they walked past. Nate stopped the duo suddenly, bending to his knees and whispering something into Rebecca's ear.

Sophie watched helplessly as the child nodded and then walked out of the building with her mother. She looked at Nate, trying to read his expression but failing miserably. She started to walk towards him but the foyer was becoming increasingly crowded as the grand hall emptied and disgruntled guests headed for home. Sophie gave up quickly and lost herself in the crowd.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm only mildly satisfied with this chapter but I decided it was time for an update. I hope you enjoy it. :)

-Allissa

* * *

><p>Parker, Eliot, Hardison and Nate all stood in the empty foyer wondering what came next and none of them wanting to ask.<p>

"So," Hardison began slowly, directing his attention towards the disgruntled looking leader. "She didn't say anything because she figured you'd fall apart the second you knew a kid was involved?"

Eliot jabbed his elbow into Hardison's ribs and the younger man yelped. "Seriously, dude? Was that necessary?"

Parker wasn't paying attention, as usual. She was playing with something in the pocket of the grey hoodie she was wearing over the emerald gown.

Parker, I told you to return the jewels." Nate snapped. "You were only supposed to steal their IDs, anyway."

Parker scowled. "She had it coming."

"Who?"

"The lady at the table with Sophie. She's weird."

"That was Sophie's sister," Eliot turned towards the blonde. "Have you been paying attention to _anything_ the past two days?"

"Sure. The important stuff like picking locks, picking pockets, and tasing the guy in the sound room."

"There's something the matter…"

"Oh leave her alone," Hardison piped up.

"Leave her alone with you?" Eliot snapped back.

"Hey! C'mon, man there's no need…"

"Has anyone seen Sophie?" Nate interrupted once again. The group ignored his question and continued bickering. It didn't really matter; Nate had a good idea of where the grifter was anyway.

"I'll see everybody back at the hotel." He mumbled as he walked away from the squabbling group.

XXXXXXXXX

Nate looked at his watch; almost three o'clock. He sighed, _"Almost 48 hours since this crap started."_ He rubbed his hands together for warmth, gave up, and tucked them under his arms. _"I wish she'd hurry up."_ His head was pounding worse than ever and he was starting to feel nauseous. _"Great, I probably have a concussion and I'm going to wind up…"_ His negative train of thought was cut off as policeman approached him.

"Can I help you, sir?" the officer asked suspiciously, surveying Nate's formal dress wear and bruised face.

"Just waiting." Nate replied, inclining his head towards the pub he was standing in front of. "They're closing in a few minutes and I'm escorting my friend home."

"You're slurring your words, have you been drinking?"

"Not much sleep in the past two days." Nate growled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat.

The officer flashed a light in Nate's face and he winced at the brightness. "Do you mind pointing out your friend to me?"

"There are only three people left in the bar," Nate snapped. "Which one do you think I'm waiting for?"

There was a clear view of the interior of the pub from the large window on Nate's right. Sophie was seated at the far end of the bar away from the two rough looking men who both appeared to be half-asleep.

The officer looked from the beautiful woman inside to the battered man before him and he frowned. "Can I see your ID?"

"I don't have any!" Nate barked before slumping against the wall. "Look," Nate sighed trying to control his frustration. "She's angry at the entire world right now and I'm staying clear of her because I can't stand any more hits to the head tonight but I'm fully prepared to follow her, for the rest of the night if necessary, to make sure she gets back to our hotel alright."

The officer nodded, inclining his head in a gesture of apology. "Alright, just don't stay out here too long. The temperature is supposed to drop another ten degrees before the night is through."

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate stamped his feet on the concrete, trying to push the blood into his feet. _"Lousy dress shoes, uncomfortable as hell and now I'll probably have frostbite." _

The door to his right opened and out stumbled Sophie, still in her evening gown and high heels, mumbling angrily to herself. Nate wisely said nothing and stayed a good ten feet behind her as she stumbled down the sidewalk.

"If you were a gentleman you'd offer me your coat." She called back to him without breaking her awkward stride.

"If you were a lady you wouldn't be out in the cold at three in the morning." He pulled the coat closer to his body. "You've been outside for two minutes and it's less than a mile to the hotel. You'll be fine."

"I'm not going to the hotel."

Nate quickened his step, the effort rather painful, to catch up with Sophie. He said nothing, only matched his stride to hers for several minutes until her pace gradually slowed.

"I'm not going to the hotel." She repeated firmly. Nate said nothing. "I want to forget today. I mean gone, wiped clean." His lack of response was beginning to infuriate her. "I hate people," she stated firmly, looking over at his impassive face. "I mean all of them. They draw you in and you get attached and then…" she ended the sentence with a growl.

"And me?" he smiled but Sophie could see he already knew what her answer would be.

"Especially you. If it wasn't for you…" she stopped talking and frowned disapprovingly. "Forget it… I just want to forget all of it, Nate." She looked long and hard at her friend; his eyes were glazed and bloodshot, the right side of his head was swelling tremendously, and his face had taken on a dark, husky color from being too long in the cold. Her eyes pleaded with his to understand, to let her be angry and miserable and tomorrow they could go on pretending that nothing had ever been amiss.

Sophie rubbed her face wearily and started walking again. _"Let him follow if he wants to_." She challenged inwardly. _"Let him freeze to death to save his bloody conscience…no,"_ she corrected herself, _"He's trying to save me. Well isn't that a switch? Not really. Oh damn him and his bloody white knight routine." _

XXXXXXXXXX

Sophie unlocked the hotel room and left the door open behind her, still never saying a word to Nate. He followed her, a familiar pattern at this point, and sat down wearily on the couch.

The hotel room was divided into two separate chambers. The back room had the large bathroom and the two queen sized beds. The entrance contained a fireplace, two small settees, a coffee table and a flat screen television mounted on the wall.

Nate's skin felt as if it was on fire as the heated air washed over him. He closed his eyes as they seared the backs of his eyelids and he gasped for air. Slowly the feeling returned to his fingertips and toes and the numbness was replaced with sizzling pain.

He heard the clink of glass on glass and he opened his eyes. Sophie was kneeling in front of him, two glasses on the coffee table, struggling to open a bottle of whiskey she had purchased en route to the hotel.

She looked beautiful, her curvaceous body silhouetted by the glow of the fireplace. Nate chided himself for such a thought. She poured a glass for him as well as for herself. An improvement, Nate thought. At least she was acknowledging his presence.

He slid off the couch and onto the floor with a groan and reached for the glass.

"First…" Sophie blocked his hand from its object. "First tell me why you're here."

He looked her squarely in the eye though he wasn't sure he understood the question. "Because you needed me."

Sophie moved her arm, picked up her glass and downed the potent drink in three gulps. "I don't need you." She spat at him, anger flashing in her eyes. "I've never needed you."

Nate let the bitter comment pass with a heavy heart. Sophie glared at him one more time and then lay down on her side in front of the fireplace, her head resting on her right arm.

"You should have told me." Nate mumbled after a few moments, unsure if Sophie was asleep or awake.

Her lying form didn't move. "You should have told me you had a kid, Sophie. You lied to me for eight years." Nate's tone wasn't angry or bitter. He only sounded tired as he stared at the floor.

"No." her voice was only a whisper.

"Yeah, you did." He rubbed his forehead and winced at the movement.

"It was none of your business!" she pulled herself back to a sitting position, her voice gaining force once more.

"No?" Nate boldly challenged her. "Wasn't it?"

Sophie's eyes widened and her face paled. Nate stopped himself from going any further. _"Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer."_ He cautioned himself. _"Let it go."_

"Why would I tell you?" her expression was as cold as stone. "You've never been an important part of my life."

Nate swung at the whiskey bottle, knocking it and his full glass onto the floor with a crash. Sophie jumped back in shock and was suddenly filled with remorse.

"_But what can I say?"_ she asked herself. _"I've already said too much."_ So she said nothing as she pulled herself to her feet, suddenly feeling very sober.

"Sophie." His voice was hollow and empty. She stopped her progression to the bedroom but refused to turn and look at him.

"Sophie, you've always been an important part of my life." He admitted it as freely as if he were telling her that he liked vanilla better than chocolate.

XXXXXXXXXX

Eliot heard the announcer's voice and the crowd's cheers through the hotel walls and deduced that Nate was back and watching television. Still dressed in his suit, he crossed the hallway and slid his card through the lock, gaining admittance to the next room.

"You look terrible." He commented, surveying Nate's slouched form on the floor. "You could either really use a drink or you have already had too many." He sat down on the couch, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and turned up the volume.

"Sophie's sleeping." Nate cautioned, ignoring the comment about his appearance.

Eliot complied; turning the sound back down as he realized that Nate was indeed sober although the smell of alcohol hung strongly in the air.

"Is she okay?"

"No." Nate half laughed and half sighed. "I don't know what I can do to fix it."

"You probably can't." Eliot crossed his arms over his chest, believing the matter settled.

"Did you know Rebecca was Sophie's daughter?" Nate interjected quietly.

"That explains a lot." Eliot seemed surprised but uninterested.

"She didn't tell me." A hint of Nate's frustration crept out in the statement and Eliot looked long and hard at his friend.

"She didn't tell any of us." Eliot was unsympathetic.

"But back then we…" Nate wasn't sure how to explain. "We were…it was different."

"How old is the kid?" Eliot asked after a few moments of gloomy silence. "Like seven?"

Nate nodded, skeptical of any reason Eliot could possibly come up with.

"How long ago did Sam die?"

Nate abruptly swung around, a vicious expression on his face.

"How long ago, Nate?" Eliot's tone contained just a whisper of sympathy and it fueled Nate's rage making it difficult for the older man to refrain from saying (or doing) anything stupid."What was it? Eight years ago, maybe? More like seven and a half?"

Eliot's expression seemed to say "duh" as Nate realized why he had been kept in the dark.

"_Seven years and eight months."_ Nate thought solemnly. _"Shit."_ Nate's head began swimming. _"She couldn't tell me."_ Nate's mind briefly drifted to a time and place when he could barely breathe, barely see anything in the world but his own pain and suffering. He had been completely and utterly inaccessible…even to her.

"Damn it."

Eliot leaned back into the cushions, closing his eyes. "I'd be pissed off too if I was her."

"Glad to know I've got your support." Nate replied sarcastically but he was grateful for the dose of reality his friend had given him.

"_What now?" _Nate thoughts pounded in his head. _"There has to be something I can do…anything. No. Not now. Sleep right now. I'll think of something later. I'll come up with a plan later."_

Nate closed his eyes, accepting the companionship of his friend, and prayed for sleep to claim him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Nate was drifting between worlds when a soft buzzing jerked him awake and he groggily started patting his jacket and pants to locate the cell phone.

"Hello?" he was wide awake in an instant when he heard the voice on the other end. "Yeah… yeah. " He slapped Eliot's knee to awaken him. "I'm on my way…yeah, just a few minutes." Even though Eliot was now awake, Nate hit him again for good measure. "Don't go anywhere." He hung up the phone and turned to face a very disgruntled looking Eliot and then looked to the clock; almost six am.

"Come with me." Nate stood. "I'll explain in the car."


	11. Chapter 11

"_I'm never going outside again if I can help it."_ Nate swore as he walked through the muddy lawn, the frozen blades of grass crunching under his feet. He reached the desired spot in the yard and looked up into the branches of a giant oak tree.

"Hello?" hoarse from lack of sleep, Nate could barely hear his own voice. "Hello?" The second try received a response. Out of the mass of branches, lumber, and nails descended a rope ladder and Nate groaned.

"Becky, come on." He pleaded. _"There's no way in hell I'm climbing that thing."_

A stiff wind picked up and Nate moved towards the ladder. Better to have a broken neck than stand in this freezing wind for one second longer. With an excessive amount of grumbling Nate reached the ten foot precipice alive and looked around the bare, dark room.

"_Déjà vu."_ He thought when he saw Rebecca in the corner. But this time she didn't hold her arms up to him or complain she simply looked up at him with those large brown eyes so much like Sophie's, filled with a sadness that matched her mother's.

"You said you were in trouble." His voice was a little harsher than he intended so he crouched down beside her to show goodwill. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired of all this." She sighed, sounding like an exasperated adult.

Nate chuckled because he could relate. "So why am I here?"

Rebecca looked sad again. "I just want to be with my mom." And with that admission she leaned up against Nate and began to cry.

"_Oh not again. I can't put up with much more of this." _ Nate's annoyance was pushed aside with concern for the girl and bewilderment. He had forgotten just how young she was. Her womanish mannerisms and high spirit had masked her age but now Nate felt like he was cradling an infant. _"Seven years old, seven years… can it have really been seven years?"_ Nate ceased that dangerous line of thinking and determined to focus with the problem at hand.

"Well why can't you?"

She turned her tear filled eyes up to him. "Because I'm going to Switzerland today."

Nate rolled his eyes. So Elizabeth was so thrilled to be reunited with her "daughter" that she was sending her back to boarding school in less than 24 hours. Nate felt an intense disgust at such a blatant rejection of a child's love. Nate wasn't sure what to tell her. He just sat there listening to her cry and feeling as helpless as he did earlier, watching Sophie drink herself into a stupor.

"What do you want?" he finally asked her. Nate was grateful that the girl didn't realize he probably would have given her anything she could possibly think of.

"I want to live with Charlotte." She stated firmly, her tears drying at a suspiciously rapid rate.

Nate felt duped. _"Like mother, like daughter."_

"Your Aunt?" he clarified. He was honestly surprised at the request; he thought Sophie had only visited the family a handful of times.

"Sure." Rebecca rolled her eyes in a manner that so reminded Nate of Sophie that he couldn't help but laugh. "My Aunt." She stared keenly at Nate. "But she's not my aunt, you know." She said as if she were letting him in on a secret.

"Yeah. I know."

"Oh." Rebecca wiped her face off and stood up. "Well I want to leave."

Nate shook his head slowly, he hated telling the child no. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sophie opened her eyes and blinked slowly. A small stream of sunshine peeked through the blinds and pooled around her head as she lay crooked on top of the hotel bed.

"_Was it the sun that woke me? No. I heard something. There…there it is again."_ She gingerly lifted her head from the comforter and looked around the room; empty. Was someone moving around in the next room?

"Nate?" she remembered him coming back with her last night but not much else. She clumsily rose to her feet and stumbled into the next room. "Nate, keep it down." She hissed.

"Oh." Eliot was leaning over the couch but he straightened abruptly when she walked in. "Nate said you'd be asleep." He accused.

"I was until you started with all this racket. What are you doing?" He was staring at her strangely. She looked down at her crumpled and twisted dress and tried to straighten it. _"Good god, I must look atrocious." _

"I was just dropping off…uh. Nate said he'd talk to you later. I was just supposed to come in and leave." Eliot was looking angry with the position he was now in.

"What?"

Something moved and Sophie's heart skipped a beat as she noticed the pile of blankets on the couch with a pile of brown curls peeping out of one end.

"What did you do?" her tone was vicious.

Eliot frowned and headed for the door. "This is your problem, Sophie. I don't know what the hell you and Nate are doing but I'm getting pretty damn tired of just tagging along for the ride."

"Where is he?"

Eliot didn't bother answering so Sophie stomped after him, leaving Rebecca asleep in the empty hotel room. Her head was pounding, her tongue felt thick, her mouth was dry, and if she looked down at the floor everything started spinning.

Eliot smirked as she followed him into the adjoining suite; he was glad he wasn't about to be on the receiving end of her wrath. What a sight she was; tangled, frizzy hair, smeared makeup, evening gown, and bare feet!

Nate had just laid down on one of the beds, Parker and Hardison sleeping soundly in the other. Sophie stormed into the room, pulled a pillow from underneath Hardison's head and threw it at Nate's head with as much force as she could muster.

"Be glad that was the first thing I could lay my hands on!" she yelled, the decibel of her voice paining her aching head.

"What the hell?" Hardison opened his eyes to the unusual scene; Parker was still fast asleep.

"What is the matter with you?" she hissed, looking for another object to throw.

"I had to." Nate responded defiantly before glaring at Eliot. "Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

Eliot crossed his arms sulkily. "Next time you're doing your own dirty work."

"Very nice, Nate. As if I didn't have enough to deal with you had to add kidnapping to my plate! What were you thinking?" She started pacing back and forth in front of his bed and Nate stood up so he could better dodge anything else she decided to throw his way.

"It wasn't kidnapping. Elizabeth is well aware where her _niece_ is." Nate had the upper hand in this argument; he had been rehearsing this conversation in his head for the past hour. "She needs to be with you, Sophie."

"You don't get to make that decision!" Sophie yelled. "I already made it! Seven years ago! Damn you!" she marched forward and shoved him forcefully. Nate stumbled and fell on top of Parker who shrieked and instinctively karate chopped him in the ribs.

Nate let out a groan and slid to the floor, gasping in pain. Sophie was startled. _"I didn't push him _that_ hard."_

"You made the wrong decision." He moaned after a moment or two of his wheezing.

"What decision?" Parker was awake and curious.

"They were my only choice." Sophie defended. "I'm not a mother."

"The kid in the next room proves otherwise." Nate folded his arms across his chest, trying to brace his ribs as he breathed.

"What's wrong with Nate?" Parker directed the question to Eliot who shrugged.

"He wouldn't let me look."

"Ooo, the Austrian." Parker filled in the blanks. "I thought Sophie had already hit him a few times and I missed it."

"She needed a real family." Sophie refused to be distracted although Nate's ragged breathing was starting to worry her.

"She needed someone who loved her." Nate looked her straight in the eye and Sophie fought back tears.

"That's not my fault," she whispered. "It was Philip." As if that explained everything. "It was Philip. I asked him to take her; I knew he would…for me. He would do anything for me…even, even love a child that wasn't his. I knew he would. I trusted him."

Nate struggled to his feet, looking even more bedraggled than Sophie. "People change."

"He loved me! He did! He was going to marry me until I…I…" she trailed off miserably. "It is my fault." Sophie looked horrified at the realization. "Of course it's my fault. I spent all those years running across rooftops and screwing around all over Europe and I thought it wouldn't have any consequences…but it did…and now I can't… I can't… I can't take it back. I want her, Nate." Sophie lifter her teary eyes to gaze into his. He had moved close, no longer wary of impending punches. "I want her back!"

"She's in the next room." He reminded, stepping as close as possible to her without touching, his eyes never wavering.

"No." Sophie shook her head slowly. "She's never been further away. She's lived with them for seven years, Nate. They're her parents, no matter how miserable a job they make of it. She loves them."

"You don't think she notices the difference?"

"Hmm?" Sophie wanted him to step just an inch closer so she could lean her weary body against his.

"You think she doesn't see the way you smile at her? The way you hugged her last night as if you'd never let go? You think she didn't notice how Elizabeth patted her head and then took her home and started packing her bags for Switzerland?"

Sophie winced at the new information; it felt like just another slap in the face from the family that betrayed her.

"You think she doesn't realize that the only shopping trips she's ever been on were with you? That you were the first one to paint her nails? That you braided her hair for last year's Christmas party?"

Sophie had a bewildered expression on her face and Eliot couldn't help but explain.

"The kid packs a lot of words into a short car ride."

"She loves _you_, Sophie. Not them. She picked _you._"

"What are you talking about?" Sophie wiped at her tears, smearing her makeup across her cheek.

"I gave her a phone. Told her to call if anything happened. I didn't know if Devereaux would try anything. I didn't expect her to call but she knew exactly what to say to get me to show up at the house with Eliot. And then she manipulated me up into her treehouse and told me exactly what she wanted. She's quite a pro at talking people into doing what she wants." Nate smiled for the first time. "I wonder who she gets that from? Elizabeth?"

Sophie laughed suddenly, releasing her pent up emotions. Half laughing and half crying, Sophie sat down on the bed while the other four watched her.

"I missed something, didn't I?" Parker whispered into Hardison's ear.

"You'll catch on." He pecked her cheek and leaned back against the headboard, waiting for the drama to leave or at least exit the room.


	12. Chapter 12

Long work week but I managed this much... Hopefully only one more chapter! Let me know what you think! I love any and all reviews :D

(Friend…yes Nate and Maggie were separated _before _Sam died but I haven't gotten there yet and I might not go there at all; bear with me. :D And I've never actually said Nate was the dad, did I?)

* * *

><p>"Come on, Sophie." Nate nodded towards the door. "You need sleep."<p>

Her laughing now sounded more like sobbing and she followed Nate willingly across the hall. He let her into the room and she paused on her way to the bedroom, staring at her daughter's sleeping form.

"I don't know if I can do this." She whispered.

"You have to." Nate had walked into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with warm water. "Come." He said gruffly, pointing to her abandoned bed.

She accepted the towel and held it to her face with a sigh.

"You missed a spot." Nate took the cloth from her dabbed her left cheek gently to remove the mascara smear and then abruptly dropped the damp thing in her lap and quickly walked towards the doorway as if he had just come to senses.

"Nate!" her voice was pleading. "Where are you going?"

"This room is yours and Parker's."

Sophie smiled tensely. "She looked comfortable to me."

He sat down on the opposite bed in resignation.

She wanted to talk to him. _"He looks so tired. But it's more…"_ Nate lay back onto the bed, ignoring Sophie's watchful eyes. _"He looks sad." _She silently slipped off her bed and walked, rather ungracefully, the few short feet to the second bed. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, her back was sore, and her head was pounding but she ignored the uncomfortable sensations as she sat down beside her friend.

"What happened tonight?" she clumsily touched the swollen side of his head, just above his hairline, and Nate winced.

"That's nice," he growled. "Keep poking at it, that'll help."

"You don't look good, Nate. Don't you think you should have a doctor…?"

"No."

"Thank you." She ventured. "For helping me."

"You didn't really need my help." He replied curtly, his eyes closed.

"Well fine!" she glared at him and poked his ribs in spite.

"Ow! What's your problem?"

"My problem is that you're not making any sense at all! Just when you do the most caring, considerate, wonderful thing for me you promptly turn into this…this…self-pitying jackass who doesn't care about me at all!"

"I don't see what it matters what I think."

"No." Sophie's anger melted away and she looked depressed. "You never see."

He closed his eyes again and Sophie got up and went to open the door dividing the two rooms. She leaned against the doorframe watching the young girl sleep. _"What if I would have kept her?_ _What would have happened? Will she love me once I stop playing the friend and have to act like an adult? Was Nate right? Do they not care about her at all? How could they let her go? Did she really ask to be with me?"_ Sophie sighed deeply, trying to rid her mind of the swirling thoughts. She walked to the fireplace and knelt in front of it; it was little more than glowing embers but she held her hands out, hoping to gain some comfort from the warmth. Her legs began to ache and she shifted onto her bottom.

"Ow!" Tears sprang to her eyes and she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from yelling as she stood up. She looked down, a shard of glass, about two inches long, was sticking through her gown and into her right thigh.

"_Where did that come from?" _she looked around the floor and saw a heap of broken glass, mostly concealed by the leg of the coffee table. _"Oh…"_ she vaguely recalled purchasing the bottle of bourbon the night before. "_Did I throw it? No. Nate threw it. Why? Why would he…oh!" _

The previous night came back in a flash and Sophie felt a wave of pain and guilt wash over her. She limped back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Nate," she whispered, touching his shoulder gently. "Nate, help me." Her voice quivered, partly from pain and partly from shame.

He opened his eyes reluctantly and they opened wider as she slowly crawled up beside him.

"Oh, ow! Damn it. Nate, take it out!"

"_Take it out? Take what out?"_ Nate struggled to shake the fog from his mind and figure out what on earth she was talking about.

"Hurry!"

He sat up and scanned her body quickly, finally noticing the piece of jagged glass. "Hold still," he cautioned, folding his fingers around the shard.

"Ow! Stop, stop, stop! That hurts!" she hissed.

He pulled it out quickly resulting in a muffled scream from Sophie and he tossed the piece onto the nightstand. "Let me see." He reached for the hemline of her dress and she glared at him. "You might need stitches. Come here."

She pulled the fabric up around her waist and tensed while his calloused hands inspected the wound. "Gently! Gently, Nate." She reprimanded as he pressed a little too firmly on the sore muscle.

"Here," he handed her the washcloth she had used earlier. "Hold this against it. I think it'll be fine."

"You're quite a man, Nathan Ford." She said gently, a small smile breaking through her pained expression.

He frowned, very uncomfortable with the compliment and unsure of how to respond and so he lay back down.

"I mean…" Sophie tugged on his shirt sleeve. "You're a good man." He didn't react, at least not where she could see. Inside his stomach was churning with confusion, anger, and hurt. "Nate, I should never have said those things."

He finally opened his eyes. He was too tired to leave the room or he would have.

"I wanted to hurt you."

"You didn't," he replied flatly. "Don't worry about it, Soph."

"I didn't?" she was hurt by his denial…and then angry. "It doesn't work like that, you bastard! I meant it to hurt and I know it did. I saw it written all over your face and don't you dare try to deny it again!"

"You're angry that you didn't hurt my feelings?"

"I did!" she was almost crying now. "I know I did."

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because if it didn't hurt that means that you don't…" she stopped herself; unsure if she could continue. _"Oh go ahead,"_ she told herself. _"Everything is a mess already."_

"It means I've misjudged everything." She looked defeated. "It means you don't care…that you don't love me."

Nate felt his heart drop into his stomach and then lurch upwards into his throat. _"How the hell did she figure out that I… I've always…"_

"Nate…" she reached out and touched his shoulder gently. _"What can I say?" _her mind reeled. _"How can I tell him how sorry I am? How wrong I was? I was hurting and I wanted him to hurt but I need…that's it…I need."_

"I need you." Nate had never seen such honesty in her eyes before that moment. "I need you, Nate. Maybe what I said last night was half true. I didn't need you all those years ago, not really. I wanted you." She smiled at the clarification. "Now I really, really don't want you but I need you. The past few days is evidence enough of that. You've ruined me. We're a team, Nate, and I can't function properly without my partner."

"_Is she saying what I think she's saying? She can't be. She _needs_ me? What the hell does that mean? Need, need, need…where's a dictionary when you need one? I need her; that much I know. But I want her too. Partners? A team? But we're all a team. Parker, Hardison, Eliot…we're all partners. What do you mean, Sophie? What are you talking about?"_

Sophie tried to read his expression but to no avail. He only seemed bewildered. "I'm a better person because of you, Nate." She whispered. "You won't let me fail myself or anyone else. I wish you could understand what I'm saying."

"My dad," he mumbled, trying to expresswhat he couldn't properly verbalize. "You wouldn't let me fail him."

Sophie smiled as she realized he knew exactly what she meant. She had made sure that he had at least tried to connect with his father. She pushed him. That's what they did for each other; they pushed each other, pulling and stretching until the other gave way and grew a little as a person.

"I do." He finally told her, reaching up and pulling her hand off his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"I care, Sophie. You have to know that. Right? You know? You know I love you?"

Sophie couldn't resist the sadness and uncertainty in his eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him roughly. "I know," she gasped when she finally broke away. "Of course I know and I've been waiting for seven years for you to man up and say it."

She smiled brightly and lay down beside him, looking up into his conflicted face. He lay back down beside her, pulled her close and stroked around the still-exposed portion of her leg while she pushed as close to him as possible, wrapping her arms tightly about his torso.

"Sophie," his voice sounded strange. _"Emotional?"_ she wondered.

"Yes, Nate?"

"I can't breathe."

She jerked away from him and surveyed him worriedly. He was exaggerating of course but he still looked terrible; his face was pale and his eyes were starting to glaze over again. She gave a sigh, half frustration and half amusement. "Sleep," she told him with a smile, reaching up and brushing a curl out of his eyes. "We can finish that thought in a couple of weeks."

"Days," he amended. He kissed her three times, each one deeper and longer than the last until he broke off with a small moan. "Oh what the hell; what's a little pain? He reached for her but she held up a hand to block him.

"Nate, I'd prefer you alive." She kissed him, her mouth full of promise. "Soon," she assured him. "It's not like it's been seven years," she laughed. "Sleep, Nate. You need it as much as I do."


	13. Chapter 13

Aww. I liked the ending. :D I hope everyone enjoyed this story. I certainly had fun writting it! Let me know what you thought of it and thank you all for your wonderful reviews along the way!

-Allissa

* * *

><p>Sophie shivered and the movement shook her awake. She groggily reached for a sheet or blanket, anything she could cover her arms with.<p>

"What are you doing?"

Sophie opened her eyes and discovered the sheet she was tugging on was actually Nate's dress shirt. She blinked slowly as she tried to recall why she was curled up beside him on top of the hotel bed.

Nate smiled, something he hadn't done a lot of in the past few years, and rubbed her arm with the palm of his hand.

"Oh." His touch had jogged her memory. "You said…oh dear." She cut herself off and frowned. "This isn't good, Nate."

He was unperturbed. "I disagree."

"It won't work." She insisted, sitting up abruptly to avoid his comforting touch. "The team…they won't like it. And…and…and Rebecca…"

"You don't like seeing her with me." It wasn't a question and he still didn't seem upset; he was just stating a fact.

How could she explain that it was just the opposite; that the sight of Rebecca sitting on the floor beside Nate had made her heart ache with longing for something she was convinced could never be?

The front door opened, interrupting their dysfunctional discussion.

"Help me up?" Nate requested of her as he extended his arm. Sophie moved to his side of the bed and pulled the battered man to his feet.

"What time is it?" she glanced around the room until she located Nate's watch on the nightstand. "Oh! It's almost two." She looked at him worriedly. "Our plane?"

"Don't worry. It doesn't leave until past eight. We'll be home today." He grabbed her hand and she didn't pull away.

"Home?" a fleeting look of depression crossed her face until she looked into Nate's eyes. She smiled. "It'll be good to be home."

They walked hand in hand into the following room, discovering quite an odd scene. Rebecca was sitting in the middle of the couch, flanked by Parker who was still in her nightshirt (an oversized baseball tee) and Hardison who was only wearing a pair of jeans and an undershirt. Eliot was asleep in a chair while the other three watched a cartoon. They evidently had ordered every possible thing off of the room service menu; plates, cups, and silverware were scattered all around the floor.

"Cheesecake?" Rebecca offered. Eliot woke up at the sound of her voice but Parker and Hardison didn't take their eyes off of the television.

"Coffee?" Nate asked hopefully. The child made a disgusted and slightly disappointed look, pointing to a decanter on the corner of the coffee table. Nate poured two cups and handed one to Sophie who was looking extremely uncomfortable.

"Parker showed me how to order." Rebecca offered up for conversation. "She told me to order everything they had but one thing at a time." She giggled and Parker looked mischievous.

"So is she coming to Boston or what?" Parker asked without taking her eyes off the screen.

"We're going to have clear guidelines on what electronics are off limits, correct?" Hardison looked wary.

"I refuse to be a babysitter." Eliot growled, his head still resting on the back of the chair.

"I don't mind." Parker offered. "But I expect adequate compensation in unmarked, non-sequential bills."

"Stop it!" Sophie interrupted, looking frazzled from the sudden onslaught.

"I am going home with you, right?" Rebecca asked before Sophie could gather her thoughts (the six hours of sleep she just got was not nearly enough to compensate for three days without rest). Rebecca looked unsure of herself for the first time.

"Y-yes." Sophie replied hesitantly.

"Cool." Parker chimed in, giving a triumphant-looking Rebecca a high five.

"It looks like everything is going to work out in spite of all your worrying." Nate whispered in Sophie's ear as he shuffled past her to the last empty armchair.

XXXXXXXXXX

"_Home__…__as__close__as__it__comes__anyway.__Thank__god.__"_ Sophie dropped her luggage at the door and moved directly to Nate's couch, stretching her body across the entire sofa.

"It's kind of ugly here." Rebecca observed, following her mother inside.

"It's our office." Nate defended. "It's not supposed to look like The Ritz."

"What's that?"

"A place full of people with tons of cash and lots of jewels." Parker smiled at the memory and headed straight for the fridge, sniffing an old container of milk before tossing it in the sink.

"It's a hotel." Eliot explained. "Nate, have you seen my keys? I'm heading back to my place."

"Well if you left the tracker on them you could figure out where they are a lot quicker but nooooo…" Hardison trailed off, grumbling to himself as he joined Parker by the fridge (standing considerably closer to her than necessary).

"Unnecessary." Eliot scooped up the keys off the kitchen counter and headed back out the door. "If anyone calls me within the next 24 hours there had better be someone dying."

"Someone might be if everyone doesn't get out of here soon." Nate mumbled under his breath.

"Nate?" Rebecca joined him by the window that overlooked the busy Boston street.

"Mmm?"

"Where's my room?"

"Uh, no." He stuttered. "This is my place."

"I'm not staying with you?"

"Uh, Sophie? Are you about ready to leave?" He was looking nervous.

"Nate, you're not seriously going to make me drive all the way back to my apartment _now_?" Sophie complained without raising her head off the pillow. "It's rush hour! It'll take at least an hour!"

"No, no, no, no." He left Rebecca at the window and moved towards the couch. "And where am I supposed to go?" He whined like a child. "You'll take over my apartment, she'll get the couch and where will I sleep? The kitchen counter?"

"Oh, Nate." She groaned as she sat up. "You're so dramatic." She motioned for the little girl. "Come on, Rebecca. I'll get some sheets and you can sleep on the couch tonight."

"I don't have any spare sheets." Nate growled.

"Yes you do." Sophie replied curtly, moving towards the coat closet by the front door. "I bought some a few months ago. 1500 thread count." She smiled as she pulled them down from the shelf and stroked the soft fabric. "Two sets. You can be so barbaric at times. One pathetic set of 200 thread count in that ugly beige color; you act like a college student."

"What's wrong with beige?" Hardison complained from the kitchen. The group ignored his protest.

"And I'm sleeping where?" he grabbed her wrist to stop her as she walked by.

Her eyes sparked as they met his. "With me, of course." Her gaze was a mixture of teasing and daring.

Nate grew very, very quiet as he watched her march about the apartment gathering a bundle of blankets and pillows.

"Are you planning on leaving anytime soon, Hardison?" he asked suddenly, turning towards the two still in the kitchen. Parker was leaning against the counter and Hardison was leaning against her; both were looking rather sheepish.

"Uh, yeah. On our way out."

"Our?" Nate asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh please, Nathan." Parker scoffed as she scooped her backpack off the floor. "You don't have much room to talk." She gave a pointed glance towards Sophie who was halfway up the stairs.

"Kettles, pots…goose, gander." Hardison grinned as he walked out the front door.

Parker glanced around the room looking for Rebecca who had suddenly disappeared. "Huh." She followed Hardison out the door. "Say goodnight to your kid for me." She called to Nate as she pulled the door shut behind her.

"Parker! She's not…" Nate didn't bother finishing the sentence; the door had already closed and he didn't feel much conviction in the statement anyway.

"So you're my real dad?" Rebecca popped her head from around the back of the couch; her tone was very matter-of-fact.

Nate jumped back as if she had just kicked his shins. "Huh?" He hurriedly glanced at the stairs, monitoring for Sophie who was thankfully still absent. "Hmm." He grunted in response, hoping she would drop the subject. His chest was starting to hurt again.

"You don't know, do you?" She curled up in the nest of blankets Sophie had arranged on the couch. "That's dumb."

"_How__the__hell__am__I__supposed__to__know?__"_ he asked himself angrily. _"__It__'__s__not__like__she__tells__me__anything.__Seven__damn__years__and__she__doesn__'__t__say__…__I__don__'__t__know__what__makes__her__think__she__can__get__away__with__…__just__because__she__thought__I__couldn__'__t__handle__…__so__what__if__I__couldn__'__t__handle__it?__I__still__had__a__right__to__know?__Right?__Right!__Paris__…" _Nate's thoughts began to drift towards the City of Lights and memories of the beautiful thief who had occupied so much of his time. _"__Paris__in__May,__so__beautiful.__She__was__beautiful.__God,__she__was__so__beautiful.__"_ It had been a difficult time for him; Maggie had just moved out of the house and taken Sam with her. She had told him he was spending too much time in Europe; so much time chasing Sophie._ "__I__'__m__still__chasing__her.__"_ Nate noted the irony._ "__This__is__pathetic.__"_ He had never considered what he would do if he caught Sophie Devereaux, he had been too focused on the chase. He could never be sure if he had finally caught up or she just stopped running but once he held her they never parted until he got a call from Maggie one week later; _the_ call, Sam was in the hospital.

"It is dumb." Nate finally agreed, sounding rather depressed.

"I guess it doesn't really matter." Rebecca dismissed the subject with a yawn.

"_What__a__bizarre__kid.__"_ Nate watched for a moment as she burrowed into the sheets. _"__She__'__s__right__though.__"_ He finally decided. _"__She__'__s__a__part__of__Sophie__and__I__…__I...I__love__Sophie,__I__do.__Damn,__what__have__I__gotten__myself__into?__" _

Nate turned the main light out, leaving a small hall light on in case Rebecca woke up in the middle of the night, and he slowly ascended the spiral staircase, his mind whirling with every step. . _"__Is__she__asleep__or__is__she__waiting__for__me?__"_ Nate knew Sophie would never volunteer the information her daughter had just asked and he vowed then and there to never ask. He found himself unusually content even in this extraordinary change of events. _"__Friend,__Uncle__…__even__Father?__That__'__s__okay__with__me.__" _He walked through the doorway into his bedroom to find Sophie sitting in the middle of his bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, wearing leggings and one of his cotton t shirts. This Sophie pulled at his heart even more than the Sophie he knew all those years ago in Paris, covered in lace and diamonds. _"__Familiar,__soft,__warm__…__loving.__" _He joined her silently.

Her eyes sought out his, wondering how long she had before he started asking questions that could only bring up painful memories. She saw what she desperately wanted to see but had never dared to hope for; satisfaction. He was happy; happy with where he was and who he was…and what he would become with her.


End file.
